Sonnets written chiefly during a tour through Holland, Germany, Italy, Turkey, and Hungary. By Lady Emmeline Stuart Wortley |
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SONNET.
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 | Sonnets |  |
48
SONNET.
[To thee I drink this parting cup, full brimmed—]
To thee I drink this parting cup, full brimmed—This cup of an unfathomable woe!—
And drain each drop of fire!—yet must I go!
My heart is wounded and my sight is dimmed;
That cup with every poison-dew seems rimmed:
Fear, Self-reproach, Suspense together flow,
And all their torments I too keenly know.
No matter!—for Love's lamp is fed and trimmed;
And this shall light my sepulchre on earth.
Life! thou long torture!—let thy rack but be
With buds of Hope's young roses flowering forth,
Adorned and brightened, and 'tis well with me!
Farewell! farewell!—I murmur not; 'tis worth
Our while to weep, if through our tears Heaven's smiles we see!
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